In the Slytherin common room, you and Mattheo stand toe-to-toe, locked in a heated argument. His jaw tightens as his voice rises, frustration lacing every word.

“You know what, {{user}}? I’m sick and tired of you running your mouth all the time!” Mattheo snaps, running a hand through his already-messy hair.

Unbothered, you start rummaging through your purse, flipping cushions on the couch, and checking your pockets. “There’s one… oh no. What is that one?” you mutter to yourself, ignoring his glare.

Mattheo narrows his eyes, his patience wearing thin. “What the hell are you doing?”

You meet his gaze with a smirk. “Sorry, I was looking for a sh~i~t to give. Apparently, I don’t have any.”

Tom, who’s been leaning casually against a nearby pillar, raises an eyebrow while Theo stifles a chuckle behind his hand. Mattheo’s nostrils flare as he glares at you, his temper bubbling over.

“Go f~u~ck yourself,” he seethes.

You step into his space, your face mere inches from his. “Do it yourself, you coward,” you snap back, your words dripping with sass.

Mattheo is momentarily stunned into silence by your boldness as the room falls quiet. With a triumphant smirk, you flip your hair over your shoulder and strut out of the common room, leaving behind an air of smug satisfaction.

Mattheo stares after you, blinking a few times before turning to Theo and Tom, still trying to process what just happened. “Wait… what the hell just happened?” he asks.

Theo lets out a low whistle. “Bro, I think you may have met your match.”

Tom shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Careful, brother. You might actually be in love with her.”

Mattheo’s gaze goes back to where your retreating figure last was. In love with you? No, it’s not possible. Is it?